


In Which Dean Tries To Do Something Nice And Gets Banned From Busch Gardens

by CowboyBootsAndHuntersHelper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Amusement Parks, Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 19:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2480537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CowboyBootsAndHuntersHelper/pseuds/CowboyBootsAndHuntersHelper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He just wanted to cheer Cas up a bit.  After all, losing your wings has gotta be tough.  Unfortunately, helping Cas feel like he's flying again takes a little more effort than driving fast with the windows down, and Dean's timing isn't the greatest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Dean Tries To Do Something Nice And Gets Banned From Busch Gardens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WinJennster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinJennster/gifts).



“God fucking- no more goddamn historical towns, alright?” Dean huffs as he slides into the front seat of the Impala, letting his grime smeared forehead drop to the wheel. He’ll just get it with a wipe later.

“No argument from me, Dean.” The familiar lean of the Impala as Sam sits down beside him is comforting, and Dean lets his head loll to the side and assesses his companions. Neither Sam nor Cas, who is far more carefully easing into the back seat with a small hiss, seem any cleaner or more rested than he is. “Although,” Sam continues, slumping against the window.  “I figured you’d have been all excited about hunting a ghost pirate.”

“Yeah, _a_ ghost pirate. As in _one_. Not two fucking hundred who all got hung on the same damn tree!”

“Hanged,” Cas mumbles from the back.

“Whatever. And then all those dead soldiers just popped up out of nowhere, and just... from now on, how about we just don’t take hunts in the middle of historical cities where a bunch of shit went down, yeah?” A small chorus of assenting grunts fills the car as Dean puts her into drive.  "Williamsburg can suck it," he mutters as mud splashes up against the side as the wheels spin for a moment.

“Shame we had to light that tree on fire,” Cas murmurs as they finally pull onto the interstate. “It was a nice tree.  Do you think the residents will mind?”

Soon though, the rough hunt is forgotten. The early morning October air is crisp in eastern Virginia, and it doesn’t take long before every window of the Impala is down as she rambles on down I-64 East.

(”It’s not that far off from the beach, Dean. We could go once we’re done.”

“The hell are you gonna do at a beach in the middle of October, Sam?”

“It’s supposed to have a really cool boardwalk area, and in the off season it won’t be so crowded.”

“I think I would like to see this boardwalk too, Dean”

“...fine, we’ll go.”)

The fresh air seems to do wonders for the tired boys, and by the next exit the radio is cranked up and Sam is laughing breathlessly at Cas, who nearly has his entire upper body hanging out the window as Dean encourages him, pushing the Impala faster and faster until they finally catch up with the morning traffic. Cas pulls himself back in with a sigh, bouncing a little as he drops into the seat.

“Almost like flying,” he murmurs to no one in particular. It gets quiet in the car, the previous jovial mood gone in a flash as they remember Castiel’s impending mortality. “Sorry,” Cas offers quietly, sensing the shift in atmosphere and curling up in his seat. Dean glances back at him, thinking about a sign he saw a while back.

“You know what, Cas? I think I have an idea,” he says, pulling onto the next exit. “But first, we find some breakfast.”

* * *

Dean regrets breakfast. Cas is screaming joyously in his left ear, Sam is screaming mirthfully in his right, and Dean himself is just screaming. When the ride pulls into the stop, Sam actually has to unbuckle his motionless brother and pull him out of the seat while Cas bounces excitedly at the exit turnstile, ready for the next coaster.

“You know, Dean, what you’re trying to do is nice and all, but maybe you should sit the next few out?” Sam suggests, all the while laughing under his breath. Dean just nods silently, pale as the ghosts they usually hunt. He can feel every nerve in his body tingling as his adrenaline slowly comes down out of overdrive but he can’t make himself move, and Sam has to frogmarch him away from the station. Cas wastes no time when they approach, grabbing both of their hands and pulling them past a water gun game and an arcade, down the path to the next area, all the while babbling about the next roller coaster he wants to try. All Dean manages to make out is that it was named after some mythical bird or beast or whatever. When the ride in question comes into sight, complete with riders dangling at the top of a massive drop off only to be released and plummet screaming straight down to their inevitable messy death, Dean’s knees lock up.

“Uh, Cas, buddy, I...” Castiel turns to look at him, and Dean feels bad for ducking out. He’s never seen Cas look so excited, but even as Dean fumbles for words, Cas’ jubilant expression shifts into something calmer. He smiles softly at Dean.

“You know, I could really go for some dinner, but the lines here... there’s so many people, Dean!” His grin grows as he surveys the crowd. “Maybe... could you get us something while Sam and I are line, so that when we’re done we can just sit and eat?”

“I... yeah! That sounds like a great idea, Cas!” Sam’s smirk is nowhere near as kind as Cas’ resulting smile, and Dean flips his brother the bird. Some passing mother covers her child’s eyes in horror and Dean flushes red. “I’ll just, uh... go find something.” He waits until Sam and Cas are safely in line before wandering away, taking his time as he wanders through the fakey european village. He looks in some of the shop windows, seriously considering getting one of the massive ice cream cones in spite of the chilly evening air (and seriously, fuck autumn, it’s not even seven o’clock yet and it’s already getting dark), before he stops in front of an uncomfortably familiar statue. He can’t quite place why it unsettles him, but is jolted out of his thoughts as a screaming group of girls dressed in ridiculous amounts of plaid push by him, gathering around the statue in various aggressive poses.

“’Team Free Will’ on three!” The intimidating woman who seems to be their leader calls out as another of their group readies a camera. Her T-shirt bears the image of one of Chuck’s horrible novel covers, and a shiver runs up Dean’s spine as he turns away. Fucking ‘fans.’ Still, he does wonder how she managed to get the thigh holster past the attendants at the front of the park. Sam made him leave all his weapons in the Impala, that bastard. Dean crosses the railway that runs through the park and into the next area. He follows the map towards ‘Grogan’s Grill’ figuring they might have pretty good food. At least, the pub next door should have pretty good beer. He starts to shoot a text off to his brother, letting him know where to meet once he and Cas are done with their ridiculous ride. Dean fumbles around with the phone a bit, still unused to the lack of keyboard, when something starts feeling... off. He stops walking, still on edge from that fucking roller coaster, and looks around. Nothing looks too out of place, but with night starting to fall good and proper now he can’t see much. The area itself doesn’t lend much help either, being nothing more than a thin, forested pathway. He starts walking again, a little faster this time, and the feeling follows him. In spite of how crowded the park was a few moments ago, it now seems like the majority of people have left. In fact, as Dean passes the wolves den, getting closer and closer to what the map proudly proclaims as ‘Ireland,’ it all starts to feel a little... deserted. Even a fog has begun rolling in, the lights of the park creating an eerie glow as it gets harder to see around him.

“What the fuck...” Dean whispers, slowing his pace. There are few straggling teenagers milling about, and the only adult he sees is quickly ushering his two young kids along as they leave the area in haste. The hairs on his arms raise as Dean looks around, coming to a stop in the front of the bald eagle enclosure. The fog has gotten so thick he can’t see a thing in front of him, can’t even tell if those teens are still around. He tentatively calls out.

“...hello?”

“Hello,” comes a heavy whisper by his ear. Dean whips around on his heel, coming face to face with a goddamn demon, black eyes reflecting what little light there was and the mangled skin of it’s face pulling into a twisted grin, mere inches from his own.

“Son of a Bitch!”

* * *

“It’s Halloween, Dean!” Sam yells at Dean when he comes to collect his brother from the security station. “Of course it was a guy in a costume! What the hell did you think all those signs were for? Demon Street, Fiends, fucking Wendigo Woods?”

“Shit, I don’t know, Sam,” Dean murmurs, focusing intently on holding the ice pack to his bloody knuckles rather than look his brother in the eye. “I mean, I thought it was just decoration, not that they were actually gonna... do anything.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam huffs. “You’re lucky the guy’s not pressing charges. Thank god you hit the only actual black belt working here.” Dean looks up at Sam and pouts, effect made all the more powerful by his new shiny black eye. He opens his mouth to retort, but Sam cuts him off.

“Just get your shit and let’s go, alright? Cas is waiting outside.” Dean huffs, getting to his feet with a groan and reaching across the desk for his phone with his good arm, his left cradled carefully in a sling across his chest. Sam holds open the door for him, and on his way out Dean nods respectfully to the guy he hit. The ‘demon’ nods back, grinning and sporting a few good bruises of his own while the onsite paramedic looks at his busted knee. Dean pockets the number the guy had slipped to him, for later. Maybe. A drink or two couldn’t hurt.  He owed the guy and all, and it had been a damn good fight. Sam nudges him down the trailer steps and Dean complies without comment. Getting outside and seeing Cas looking wistfully at the Halloween festivities, now in full swing as people dance and holler and scream and laugh in the middle of the street, makes Dean feel worse than any guilt trip Sam could lay on him.

“Look, man,” Dean starts as they meet up. “You and Sam don’t have to leave too, you know? You guys could stay here if you want, enjoy the...” Dean looks around at all the people in costumes happily scaring the guest, and the guests screaming and jumping away. “...fun.” Cas just turns to him with a smile.

“Thank you, Dean, but... we have had a good day. I can always come back another time. We should get out of the parking lot and find a good place to ‘crash’ before the park closes and everyone tries to leave at the same time.” Dean smiles at his friend, throwing his good arm around Cas’ shoulder as the trio starts walking towards the exit under the watchful eye of the security guard lingering a few feet back.

“Aw, what did I do to deserve you, buddy.”

“You tortured souls in hell, breaking the first seal and cueing heaven to mount an expedition to pull you out of the pit in order to prime you and your brother as Michael and Lucifer’s true vessels for the impending apocalypse.”

“...right. Awesome. Thanks for that, Cas.”

“...too soon?”

“Yeah Cas, I’m pretty sure six years is too soon.”


End file.
